


The Night Before

by Ellsey



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Getting ready for battle, angsty, in their own ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellsey/pseuds/Ellsey
Summary: The night before they confront Aizen after 100 years, Yoruichi and Hiyori do some reflecting on what's about to go down.





	The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Shiyori Week (even if it ended up half Urayoru). The theme was jazz.

This was it. The night before confronting Aizen after 100 years. 

Yoruichi paced, her body practically humming with energy. She was prepared. Probably more prepared than she’d been for anything in her life. But that nervous energy was still there. She reached out, trying to force every muscle in her body to relax. Be calm. It worked for a few seconds until she could feel the nerves coming back.

Kisuke was concentrating on his inventions, tweaking them, trying to reach some ideal of perfection that existed nowhere but his own mind. She shook her head partly in exasperation, partly in affection. This was the man she had chosen to spend a large portion of her life with, and he looked like a child with a difficult problem as he concentrated on a small something. 

This could be the last time she saw him. The idea hit her like a ton of bricks. She had no illusions about who they were going to confront and what he could do. She felt good about their plan, she really did. Anything could happen though. They both knew that. 

She felt a rush of affection for the one person who had stood by her no matter what. He’d been there when her overbearing family was trying to force her into a box she would never fit in. He’d supported her when she rose through the ranks, becoming a captain at a young age. He’d been there through the long nights after their exile when she really began processing what she’d left behind, and he’d been there no matter where she roamed, a constant anchor to home.

Yoruichi reached for him with a primal need she rarely felt. Their time together usually involved laughter and that weird blend of friendship and lovers unique to the two of them. Not this time though. There was nothing friendly about what Yoruichi was feeling for him at this moment.

If these were going to be her last moments with him, she wanted to make sure every last one counted. She savored every look she received, cherished every physical reaction she knew he had reserved for her than far longer than most humans had been alive. She wanted to devour him, to soak in every bit of his essence to keep her going. 

She tried not to dwell on how unfair it all was. After all, they’d been together for so long now. Most people would kill for a relationship that lasted half as long as theirs. It’s wasn’t enough for her though. She wanted 1,000 years. Or more. She’d definitely take more. So she tried to stretch the night out as long as possible.

Morning came though, as it always does. After they were spent, Yoruichi tried to soak in every last bit of Kisuke. Allowed herself to say those four letters she was always loathe to say. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel that way; she just didn’t feel the need to say it. They knew what they had. 

Then it was time to go, and Yoruichi had to put it all behind her. Time to focus on the task at hand.  
*************************************************************************************************************  
This was it. The night before confronting Aizen after 100 years.

Hiyori could hear the Visoreds all preparing in their own unique ways. Kensei was cooking up a storm, and Mashiro was devouring it all. Hachi was poring over some obscure Soul Society kidou books that Kisuke had scrounged up from who knows where. Rose was playing his dumb guitar as usual, but this time with an even whinier sound. Lisa was finishing up her “epic fanfic” (it was porn) to post up for all her fans (her only fan was Love) in case she didn’t return. Love was...asleep. Of course he was. 

She hears familiar sounds of jazz start to fill the room, and she knows how Shinji is burning off his nervous energy. She’s not surprised though. It’s exactly what she knew he’d do. This was the man she’d spent a large portion of her life with. She knew him as well as she knew herself. 

Hiyori tried to make herself as small as possible. She closed her eyes and tried to soothe the part of her that was always trying to get out. The massive rage she had. Aizen had created his own worst enemy.

She felt Shinji plop his long body down on the couch next to her. Just like she knew he would. She turned her head to study him. He had his eyes closed, taking the music into his soul. She liked him best when he was like this. Relaxed. Calm. Not trying to be someone he’s not. He rarely had the chance to really relax though. He always had some plan he had come up with. Some person he had to take care of. He had been this way as long as she had known him, and she had accepted that he would probably always be this way. 

This could be that last time she saw him. The idea hit her like a ton of bricks. Truthfully, she couldn’t remember how they had become friends. They just had. It was like one day he had appeared and glued himself to her side, never looking back. And that’s when her life began. 

If she thought she knew friendship before, it was nothing compared to their relationship after their exile. At some point it had certainly passed friendship, but into what she wasn’t sure. Maybe there weren’t really words to define what they were to each other. Maybe there didn’t have to be. 

Hiyori wanted to make the most of what few moments they had together, so she started by asking him about the music. He seemed surprised and pleased that she showed some interest. Or maybe he recognized this as her way of working through all her nervous energy. At any rate, they talked through the night about anything and everything. They swapped stories and memories of things long passed, laughing hysterically together. 

She tried not to focus on how unfair it all was. After all, they had been at each other’s side for so long now. Most people would kill for a friendship that lasted half as long as theirs. It wasn’t enough for her though. She wanted 1,000 years. Or more. She’d definitely take more. So she tried make the night stretch out as long as possible. 

Morning came though, as it always does. It found Hiyori laid out on the couch, her head on Shinji’s leg. He was snoring ever so slightly, getting some rest before they left. She was surprised to find herself thinking she’d probably like to stay like this forever. She allowed herself to think about those things she usually never did. How much she liked the way his hair was always just right. How she thought he had the best smile in the world. How she had more fun with him than anyone she had ever known. What it would be like to be more than friends. Maybe there would be time for all of that later. If they survived.

For now though, she had to push all that to the back of her mind. They had a job to do. Time to focus on the task at hand.

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline is always a little wonky in Bleach, so they may not have actually been preparing on the same night, but I like the parallels as a literary device too much to care. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
